


Do or speak?

by Pansexualweirdo



Category: The Road to El Dorado (2000)
Genre: 1500's Style!, Attempt at Humor, Bathing/Washing, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Firsts, Fluff, Frottage, Guilt, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Pining, One Of Which Is In Spanish, Period-Typical Homophobia, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Canon, Spanish Bed Talk, This Is Just Nasty TBH, Three swear words, Truth or Dare, Yes you read that right, miguel's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:07:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25638514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pansexualweirdo/pseuds/Pansexualweirdo
Summary: On their search for el Dorado, Miguel and Tulio find a spring in the jungle. Obviously, this discovery calls for relaxing measures, involving a game Miguel comes up with on the fly. What can go wrong?
Relationships: Miguel & Tulio (Road to El Dorado), Miguel/Tulio (Road to El Dorado)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 407





	1. Chapter 1

“Ahhhh… Have you ever felt this boneless before, Miguelito?” breathed Tulio, floating atop the surface of the hot spring they had found. Both he and Miguel had shed their clothes and jumped right in as soon as they laid eyes on the steaming water, and Altivo had followed suit. As his two new owners lay still in the middle of the spring, the dove grey horse watched them with as much content as a horse’s expression could show, and they were all at peace.

“Once. In Seville, on that island.”

“Ah, yes, of course. How could I forget?”

They shared a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the jungle - birds chirping, water running from a waterfall in the distance, the intermittent rustling in bushes and trees - and counting the clouds in the sky, their hands every so often brushing atop the surface.

The search for el Dorado was put on hold for moments like these, all gold and troubles of the city temporarily forgotten when they treated themselves to some relaxation.

Miguel arched a brow up at the sky when Tulio gently grabbed his hand, curiously rubbing at the pads of his fingers. That was new, they usually weren’t very physically intimate with one another beyond the occasional high five or clap on the shoulder. But the change wasn’t an _unwelcome_ one.

“The rest of your hands are practically raisins by now, but your fingertips are all smooth. How come?”

Ah. Miguel released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Tulio discovered his calluses. That’s all there was to it.

“That would be the calluses of the string, my friend.”

But his partner wasn’t sated, nor cognizant of what Miguel meant. He sat upright in the spring, resting his back against its rocky walls, and continued prodding at Miguel’s fingers, a mix of fascinated and confused painting his expression. Miguel felt his face flush hot at the lingering contact and sat down next to Tulio on a protrusion in the spring to explain further on the matter.

“See, I play the mandolin with this hand.”

He gave Tulio’s hand a hearty squeeze.

“So the skin on my fingers toughens up and gets hard from the strings,” his voice lowered a mite, not necessarily on _purpose_ , but it hit Miguel how **erotic** it all sounded once the words left his lips.

As a cherry on top, the scent of blooming flowers all around the spring made for quite the romantic scene for two lovers, and that thought alone was enough for Miguel to shudder.

He cleared his throat, and that seemed to snap Tulio out of his contemplative state, as he seized up and dropped Miguel’s hand.

“R- Right. I mean- I see.”

This time, the silence that followed wasn’t as light or easy as the earlier ones, and Miguel grasped at straws to think of a new conversation topic. Not that they needed to talk _all_ the time, but after something like this, well, he could use the distraction.

Especially when the two of them were sitting right next to each other even in the size of this fount - considering Altivo could lay down if he desired, even as a full-grown mustang - and their thighs were ever so slightly touching.

“How about we play a game?” proposed Miguel, waggling his brows at his partner as he usually did to lure Tulio into anything. he would get his way sooner or later, he could feel it. The taller pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled a heavy sigh, as though he had wholly expected the blond’s outburst.

“You can never just enjoy the moment, can you?” Tulio asked, and Miguel gave a mock-offended gasp, pointing at himself.

“Me? Of course I can, I’m enjoying the moment right now! I just know a way we could enjoy it even _more.”_

By the great Gods’ names, why does _everything_ he says sound so suggestive?

Tulio either didn’t grasp or he simply ignored his partner’s mistake - to Miguel’s gratitude. He eyed him up and down for a good while before shrugging, admitting his defeat.

“Fine, let’s do it. What do you have in mind?”

“I’m glad you asked, Amigo!”

Miguel bounced off the ledge they were sitting on - partly to put some space between them so he could keep his head on right, partly because he saw potential in the game idea he had thought up on the spot and was excited about it - and he paired his reveal with dramatic hand gestures.

“Okay, so check this out; I call it ‘do or speak’.”

Altivo, who Miguel had shamefully almost forgotten was there, lifted his head in interest from where he was chewing on a plant, and Miguel silently thanked him for his support, because Tulio looked dubious. When would he learn to not judge Miguel’s (only sometimes terrible) ideas by their cover?

“No, no, hear me out; you choose one, I give you something to do or ask you a question.”

Carefully intrigued, his arms crossed over his chest, Tulio asked; “Can I pass if I don’t like what I hear?”

“Yes, but then you _have_ to do the other one, see,” added Miguel, all fired up now, watching a lopsided grin tug at the corners of his partner’s mouth. Tulio was warming up to him.

“A twist, eh? Well, I’m in, as long as you don’t make me get out of the spring.”

A laugh bubbled up out of the blond. If that was Tulio’s only condition, then this would be **_fun_**.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, friend. Allow me to start; Do… _or speak?”_ he cocked a hip where he was standing with the water reaching his waist, a solid attempt at looking imposing. But as Tulio started pondering, he felt a tad cumbersome just standing there, so he lowered himself beneath the surface. When he popped back up, slicking his wet hair back, Tulio was _still_ thinking.

Oh well. They had only started, after all. Miguel sat back down next to him - this time leaving a few inches between them - and took the opportunity to look his partner over.

Tulio had let out his hair as soon as he got in the spring, saying how it needed the humidity, and it only got curlier and curlier from the steam, surrounding his long face akin to a lion’s mane. His skin was shades darker from the days out in the blazing sun, his muscles more toned and refined after having to do more hard labor. The light of the sun’s beams that reached through the crowns of the towering trees caught on the droplets of water that beaded his skin, slowly gliding down his face, chest, and stomach. Miguel let his eyes dip farther below, to the beginning of a chiseled V on Tulio’s slender hips, and the smattering of hair on his chest that trailed down below the water’s surface.

“I choose to speak,” Tulio’s voice broke through, promptly causing Miguel to tear his eyes away from his friend - his friend, his _partner_ , nothing else - and he hoped his guilt-ridden fluster wouldn’t show.

“That took you eons, you sluggard!” he exclaimed, if only to alleviate the shame that sunk into his bones over having looked at his friend in such a manner. Tulio grinned that wondrously infuriating grin he only gave Miguel when they were alone together, and Miguel gulped.

“You must already have a question in mind, then.”

“O- Of course I do! My question to you, is-...” Miguel trailed off, he had put his foot in his mouth. His eyes darted from place to place, desperate to find something he could ask about, until they landed on Tulio’s chest, of all things. _Oh no._

“What would you do if you woke up tomorrow as a woman?”

Well, that was stupid. Tulio seemed to agree with this thought, because his shoulders jumped one, two, three times when he tried to stifle his laughter.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me! That’s my question. If you woke up and realized you were a lady, what is the first thing you’d do?”

Miguel knew that he was being too loud, too panicked over something so small, but the thought that inventing this game was a dreadful mistake hit him in the face over and over again. Tulio couldn’t hold it in any longer, he burst out giggling, and the crinkling of his eyes and the smile on his face almost made it worth it for Miguel to have made a fool of himself.

“That is actually an interesting question, whoo!” he pretended to wipe a tear away, then shot the blond a smug look, taking a page from his book and waggling his brows at him, saying: “You _know_ what I would do first, Miguel.”

Nevermind, this was definitely a mistake.

After rolling his eyes so hard they almost fell back in his head, Miguel shoved his partner lightly in the side, splashing him in the progress.

“Oh, of course you would! I _knew_ you were gonna say that! But _besides_ that, I mean.”

When his giggling subsided, Tulio sunk into thought again, tapping his fingers on the ledge of the spring.

“Hmmm… Well, I guess I’d try some girlier things; makeup and perfume, becoming a mistress, trying on a dress… Yeah, yeah I guess that’s it.”

He nodded not once but twice, yet Miguel could see the cogs turning in his head, as though there was something else Tulio thought of but wouldn’t say aloud. Miguel didn’t say anything about it, though, more comfortable making a joke instead of pressing his friend.

“You’d look _dashing_ in a dress.”

“You know it!” laughed Tulio, the sound of it pleasant to the ears, light and carefree. But then he turned somber again, a hesitant, uncertain expression on his face. Miguel gave him room to speak.

“I guess I’d try wooing a man, too. While I’m at it, I mean.”

Miguel’s mouth turned into the Sahara desert. He met Tulio’s dark blue eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You know, I’ve got to see if we’re really as easy to seduce as women say we are!” he hurried to add with a strained laugh, averting his gaze away from his friend. His cheeks were a shade darker than usual, Miguel noted, and he struggled to find footing in his words. Was the air always this humid, this heavy?

“Right. Naturally, I mean, who _wouldn’t?”_

Hoping this would ease the other’s visible anxiety, Miguel nudged him in the side, a silent, reassuring gesture. Tulio nodded quickly, vividly.

“Alright, Hombre, it’s your turn!”

“Yeah yeah, ‘do’,” Miguel said without much thought, eager to see what challenge Tulio would give him. But the taller looked a bit lost, glancing around for something to give him inspiration, perhaps. Miguel had done the same earlier himself, at the end of the day. Only he got stuck on Tulio...

“I can give you _anything?”_

“As long as it doesn’t put me within an inch of my life, preferably.”

“Of course not! Well, I think I got one; Swim to the other side of the fount and back in 10 seconds or less. I’ll clock you.”

 _Now_ he was getting into it! Miguel scoffed, assuming his position by the wall of the spring.

“Pfft, you underestimate my powers, Compadre. Watch this!”

And he dove in, water splashing all around him and Altivo watching him, confused, as he raced against the clock - or in other words, Tulio. When he touched the wall on the other side, Tulio cheered.

“8 seconds. Very impressive.”

“Told you. You’ll have to pick something harder next time,” Miguel replied, flexing his biceps and strutting back confidently to the overhang where Tulio awaited him with an amused look in his eye.

“I guess I will... I’m still sticking to ‘speak’, for now.”

“Wus.”

“I’m just warming up! Just you wait, Miguel…” 

* * *

After a few more questions and answers bouncing between the pair, and some tasks for Miguel to do - all of which he succeeded, absolutely _all_ of them, just take his word for it - their third wheel unable to participate in the game climbed out of the spring, shaking his head like a wet dog and Miguel and Tulio were both in the splash zone.

“Hey now, Altivo, come on!” giggled Tulio, not very phased but rather amused, and Miguel forced his eyes off of his friend, making an excuse to get up and cool off. Why was he so weird today? He was usually better at keeping his feelings and wants at bay…

“I’ll take off his bridle so it can dry off, you pick your fate in the meantime,” he explained, feeling oddly self-conscious, more aware of his body as he got up from the bath where Altivo waited. He and Tulio have both seen each other nude before, this was no different, he told himself.

Altivo gave a pleased whinny when he was out of the wet bridle, and he buffed his snout gently against Miguel’s arm, asking for affection. The blond felt a bit guilty for being so preoccupied, therefore he pet his horse thoroughly, smoothing his fingers through his damp mane to unravel any knots. His hair was almost as messy as Tulio’s, he thought, fondly.

Once Altivo was sated, he gave a neigh of thank you, polite as he’s been taught, and skidded off to lay down on a patch of grass in the sun not far from the fount.

“You spoil him with affection sometimes, Miguel.”

“Oh, shush, he deserves it. You can have some too if you want it, y’know,” Miguel absent-mindedly said, but he bit his tongue, stumbling over that last part like it was an obstacle. This playful teasing and prodding between the two of them was normal, he assured himself, aided by Tulio’s answering snicker, but with the day’s… _events_ … it felt like it carried more weight, more truth to it.

Miguel almost slapped himself then, he was being _absurd!_ Things like these were frowned upon, he wasn’t supposed to be having these thoughts and feelings and he _knows_ he shouldn’t. Yet as he returned to Tulio’s side and looked him over, seeing him wrench the spring water out of his unruly hair, he couldn’t help the surge of desire going through him.

Finally, Tulio spoke.

“Okay. My ‘dos’ to you aren’t all that creative, but you’re a smart cookie. So give me a ‘do’.”

A smart cookie, huh? Miguel had never agreed less, but he nodded all the same, stalling for time. Now that it came down to it, what task _could_ he give his partner?

“Your ‘dos’ are fine, Tulio. One can only do so much when they don’t want to leave the spring they found.”

“You’ve got me there. I don’t think I _ever_ wanna leave this place,” sighed Tulio, sloping against the wall of the spring. He looked like the definition of peaceful.

 _Me neither,_ Miguel thought, but he shook his head as though it would make him any wiser. Tulio lazily gestured around them with one hand.

“All you have to work with is basically the spring and us.”

“I will get to us, don’t worry,” slipped out of the blond’s mouth, unbidden, and he froze up, once again flushing hot with shame. For the love of the Gods, why was he cursed with such a big mouth?

Tulio observed him with an indecipherable look, and Miguel wondered if he should flee beneath the surface and stay there forever, until his friend clicked his tongue.

“I see how it is…” he said, low, flat, and _no, you don’t, please tell me you don’t,_ cried Miguel internally, his hands wringing in his lap as he tried to calm himself. He squeezed his eyes shut so that he could at least avoid _seeing_ the disgust on Tulio’s face.

“You’re just trying to trick me into giving you a massage, aren’t you?”

What? Miguel reopened his eyes, and he almost fell backward because Tulio was suddenly all up in his space and ready to deliver on said massage, a big, wide grin on his face - which was only _inches_ away from the other’s.

Going from startled to relieved, to in love, to nervous, all in a matter of seconds, Miguel managed a sheepish, mute nod. He was thankful Tulio didn’t take his words of ‘working with what they had - that being _themselves_ ’ in the wrong way, and simultaneously, he felt like the luckiest friend (and guy) on the face of Earth, being offered a massage by Tulio. Platonic and innocent a request as it may be.

Miguel wasn’t a very religious man, but he prayed to the Gods above at that moment that everything would work out okay between him and his partner, and that he wouldn’t accidentally step over a line or say anything untoward.

“C’mon then, _Compadre_ , turn around so I can work my magic,” urged Tulio, basically turning Miguel around himself, and as soon as the blond felt those large, warm hands settle on his shoulders, he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Easy, I’m not gonna hurt you,” murmured Tulio almost directly into his ear while beginning to knead the flesh on his neck and shoulders, and Miguel thought that this might be where he died. But what a way to go.

“You’re really tense here, no wonder you wanted me to do this.”

And no, this was _not_ Miguel’s plan all along, but he didn’t trust his voice to hold up if he were to try and speak. So he nodded stiffly instead and rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to relax. It was admittedly difficult, however, with the object of your affection feeling you up like this.

Tulio’s clever, clever hands _did_ work their magic on Miguel’s back, palms circling near his spine and thumbs working out any knots. When the roughest part was over and Miguel felt a dull ache sink into his over-strained muscles - he would feel much better tomorrow, so it was worth it - Tulio used a more gentle touch, fingernails ghosting over his skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Miguel almost slumped back against him for a second, a hum leaving his lips.

“You haven’t said a word for over five minutes. Does it feel _that_ good?" teased Tulio, hot breath fanning the shell of Miguel’s ear, and something beneath the waterline picked up interest.

Miguel was royally, solitarily screwed.

“Y- Yeah, it does,” he stammered, biting back a gasp when Tulio rested his chin atop his shoulder. His arms wrung loosely around the blond’s in comparison broader frame, and all the while, Miguel repeated in his head that it was just a friendly hug, no matter how much he wanted it to be something more.

“I’ll have to- um- r- return the favor, yeah?” he asked, and after a second or two and a light squeeze of a hug from Tulio, the taller let go of him, sliding back into place on the overhang as if nothing had happened. Miguel clutched at his chest just to see how fast his heart was pounding and _yikes_ \- that could _not_ be healthy!

“Nuh-uh, that’s not how we’re playing this game, is it? _I_ get to choose how you return the favor, I believe,” Tulio corrected him, his bossy tone bordering on suggestive.

Stunned with the turn of his game but so, _so_ glad he invented it, Miguel attempted a casual shrug.

“Right. Then I choose ‘do’.”

The seconds that followed his decision felt more like hours, but once Tulio revealed his new challenge for Miguel, Miguel fretted he might have a heart attack.

“Touch me.”


	2. Chapter 2

"Touch me."

Had Miguel heard wrong? He better make sure.

“What?”

But Tulio didn’t budge, nor did he back down. The only sign of any hesitation was in his gorgeous eyes, but Miguel could find no humor in them.

'“You heard me,” Tulio grinned, turning his body so that he faced his partner, sitting cross-legged on the ledge in the spring, allowing Miguel permission to-...

Miguel swallowed. Hard.

“I gave you a massage, it’s only fair you touch me in return. Wherever you’d like, as long as you’d like. Unless… you want to pass?”

 _Okay, Miguel, calm down, don’t panic._ This was his shot, Tulio was clearly not screwing around here. Part of Miguel screamed at him that if he did this, they could never return to what they once were. That Tulio was far too important to him to lose, in case this didn’t go their way. That Tulio would change his mind or regret his request once Miguel actually touched him. But the rest of him knew that if he didn’t act now, he might regret it for the rest of his life.

“No, no passing. Just, c- can I-?”

“Anything, Miguel.”

Ignoring the blood rushing to his face and other places when he heard his name being purred like that, Miguel preconstructed what the best course of action was, and the place with most leverage to touch Tulio would be… his lap.

Too forward, probably. And too intimate. Far, _far_ too intimate. Onto option B, then.

He closed the inches of space between them until their knees bumped together and they were facing each other, and he thanked his lucky stars when he placed one hand on the nape of Tulio’s neck, fingers slightly curling around the arc there, the other on the center of his chest, and Tulio didn’t pull away.

Both parties held their breath as Miguel moved, slowly, the hand on his neck sliding up to cup his jaw and run his finger along the sharp line there, peppered in short stubble. Miguel watched the Adam’s apple in Tulio’s throat bob as he swallowed, transfixed, and he moved the hand on his chest, rubbing through the dark hair there and stopping right above his heart, feeling it beat steadily against his palm.

Tulio’s dark skin was smooth and warm beneath Miguel’s rough hands, wet from the spring water. When they were this close, he could smell the scent of ripe berries and budding flowers off of him, but there was also this earthy tone to it, and a distinct musk that only Tulio had. It was _intoxicating_.

Both of Miguel’s hands slid down his chest, fingers brushing one of his dark nipples which elicited a delicious hiss from him, to then trail to his sides, down his stomach...

“Okay?” asked Miguel to make sure Tulio was still on board, barely above a whisper, and Tulio nodded, “More than okay”, arms falling to the other’s hips and tugging him closer. Miguel’s heart was in his throat with his breath.

“You wanna get on my lap, Mi Cielito?”

His voice was no more than a rasp at this point, throaty and lustful, and Miguel couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He might not be fluent in Spanish like Tulio, but he had a hunch that ‘Mi Cielito’ was something along the lines of ‘my heaven’. He wondered if he might _be_ in heaven right now.

With a nod and a yelp he was practically pulled into Tulio’s lap, his thighs coming around either side of the other’s, and if they got any closer, Tulio would feel how hard Miguel was.

“T- Tulio, I’m- Ah!” he gasped, the tail end of it turning into a moan as Tulio wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled them flush together, their erections pressing against one another. A groan left Tulio’s lips, and Miguel wanted to hear it again and again.

“I’m the same, see? You got me like this, Miguel.”

He demonstrated by rolling his hips up into the other’s, and the blond cried out, no longer able to control his voice or body. He was utterly and thoroughly enchanted by this dark-haired man, completely under his mercy. When Tulio once again gave a slow roll of his hips, Miguel’s hands found purchase around Tulio’s neck, burying themselves in his locks of black.

“May I give you another ‘do’, Amante?”

“Y- Yes,” whimpered Miguel, his own hips stuttering forward in search of more friction, sweat beading at his brow. His mind was foggy with lust and want, but he still met Tulio’s eyes, dark and blown.

“Kiss me.”

 **Fuck**. Miguel couldn’t possibly hold back any longer when who he wanted was right in front of him, _asking_ him to kiss him. He was only one man, after all. A man wondrously in love with his partner and best friend, who just so happened to be a man as well. But as he looked into Tulio’s half-lidded, blown eyes, brimming with love so strong it hit the blond like a speed train, he threw caution to the wind and pushed forward until their lips brushed together.

The contact was brief, gentle, and absolutely electrifying. It was as if Miguel had been sleepwalking all this time, and now he finally woke up.

How could something so wonderful be forbidden?

Tulio blinked his long, dark lashes up at Miguel in wonder, lips ever so slightly parted, before he took Miguel’s face in his hands and pressed their mouths together again.

This time, the kiss was not dipping your toe in the water to see if the temperature was ideal. It was throwing yourself headfirst into it, without any fear or hesitation, and a soft gasp left Miguel’s lips and was swallowed by the other’s. His eyelids fluttered shut and his hands in Tulio’s wet hair twisted almost desperately, curling in his locks and tugging just a mite. Tulio seemed to like that, because he all but growled into Miguel’s mouth, the hands on his face trailing down his back and settling right on his arse, squeezing it possessively.

An embarrassedly pitched squeak left Miguel’s mouth then and he ground his hips down against Tulio’s, both men hissing when their cocks pressed together, creating delicious friction.

A tongue snuck out and swiped at the seam of Miguel’s lips, and he easily parted them, moaning into the moist heat of Tulio’s mouth as their tongues met.

All doubts and what-ifs that had been in the back of the blond’s mind throughout the day now seemingly washed away, gone without a trace. All there was room for now were thoughts of Tulio, and Tulio alone. Tulio’s hands on his skin, Tulio’s mouth on his, Tulio, Tulio, _Tulio_.

“Eres asombroso, mi Amor,”* mumbled the taller of them between mind-blowing kisses, gone into his native tongue and Miguel could only whimper in response, unable to form a coherent thought with Tulio grinding his hips up into Miguel’s.

As if things couldn’t get any better, Tulio began trailing kisses over Miguel’s jaw, then down to his neck, tracing the divots of his collarbone with his tongue before finding a particularly sensitive spot above and sinking his teeth into the skin, not breaking it but just enough to leave a mark. Miguel’s white-knuckled grip in the other’s hair and the noises that left his lips seemed to spur Tulio on, as he licked and kissed the bruising skin before leaving two, three, four more bites. Miguel was panting by the end of it, tears stinging his eyes from the intensity of it all, his nerve endings going haywire. His skin burned where Tulio touched him and he wanted more.

Tulio moved up to Miguel’s ear and took the lobe between his teeth, playfully nibbling on it and breathing hot against his ear.

“What do you want, Miguel?” he rasped, hands moving from around the blond’s waist to his chest, taking one pink bud between his fingers and rolling it between them. Miguel cried out, his body trembling and his cock leaking precum, begging for attention. Talking was an effort right now.

“A- Anything. _Everything_.”

Tulio quieted him with an insistent kiss, smiling against his lips, and Miguel’s poor heart made a flip in his chest. As he rocked his body against his partner’s, coaxing groans from him, Tulio snuck his hand down between their bodies and grasped a hold of both of their erections.

“Ah! Tulio!”

Tulio growled, pushing his hips up to fuck himself into his hand and against Miguel’s cock, hot flesh easily gliding together with the aid of the water, which sloshed around them as they moved.

“Say my name again,” demanded Tulio, the hand that wasn’t stroking them in a vice-like grip on Miguel’s hip. It was almost bruising.

Miguel realized then that he _wanted_ there to be bruising. He wanted any marks Tulio gave him, to show that he was claimed by another. Even if strangers wouldn’t know by _whom_.

“Tulio,” whimpered Miguel obediently, dragging out the sound and tasting it on his tongue, nearly sobbing it when Tulio squeezed their lengths in his hand, his thumb dipping into the slit on the head of Miguel’s dick. His thighs around Tulio’s convulsed with each stroke, he could feel his stomach tightening up into knots and his toes curling.

“Again.”

“Tulio. Tulio, Tulio…” Miguel chanted his name like a mantra, like it had been repeated in his head mere minutes ago. His hands subconsciously tugged rougher at charcoal hair, and Tulio moved his hand faster, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

“Mierda. No duraré mucho más, Cariño,” he babbled, voice breathy and coming out in little pants. And Miguel had no idea what he was saying except for his endearments - that had his heart swelling - but it was so hot to hear him on the edge of his orgasm, unable to stay in his second language. It only drove him further toward his own peak.

He made the mistake of looking up at Tulio’s face, which was ashen with unapologetic lust, his tanned skin flushed red, and his eyes unfocused, fixed on Miguel. The sight alone was enough for him to be pushed over the edge, and he muffled a scream by dropping his head into Tulio’s shoulder and biting down on a spot below his ear, his hips stuttering as he rode out his climax.

It wasn’t long until Tulio came too, encouraged by Miguel whispering sweet nothings to him and littering his neck and jaw with kisses, and when his hips came to a stop and he spurted ribbons of white over his hand and into the water, Miguel just barely registered the words he moaned.

“¡Te quiero, Miguel!”

* * *

As they came down from their high, both panting and slumping against one another, Tulio wrapped him into a loose hug, pressing lazy kisses all over his face. Miguel stroked his partner’s - and now _lover’s_ \- hair, cupping Tulio’s face in his palms and nuzzling his nose against his, his heart full to the brim with love.

“I love you too, for the record,” and he kissed him. It was a slow, languid kiss, unhurried and loving. It was a kiss of a thousand unsaid words, an unspoken promise, and it had Miguel grinning like a fool against Tulio’s lips until their teeth were clanking together. They looked at each other and began giggling, holding onto one another tight.

“You know, I gotta say, Miguel, that game you made up was a real good one,” said Tulio after they had quieted down, leaning back against the wall of the spring with Miguel resting in his lap, his arms loosely wrung around him and his head resting upon his chest. He listened to the lullaby of his heartbeat and chuckled at the other’s words.

“Agreed, Querido. I’ll have to pass it on, maybe workshop the name into something catchier - and it’ll become more popular than the Mesoamerican ball game, I’m sure of it,”

“You do that, just… leave out the erotic details, yeah?”

Miguel only laughed in response. 

* * *

When the three of them (including Altivo) continued onto their journey to el Dorado, Miguel and Tulio walked close next to each other, their hands brushing every now and then, and their pet horse kept looking at them almost knowingly, whinnying in approval when they stopped for water breaks and his owners exchanged tender kisses. It was as though even he could feel the change in the air, the newfound love that had been discovered in their search for gold.

**Fin**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *AN - My little Spanish book for dirty talk:
> 
> Mi Cielito - My little heaven
> 
> Amante - Lover
> 
> Eres asombroso, mi Amor - You're amazing, my Love
> 
> Mierda - Shit
> 
> No duraré mucho más, Cariño - I won't last much longer, Darling
> 
> Te quiero - I love you
> 
> Querido - Dear
> 
> AN 2: If you stuck through this, thank you, I greatly appreciate it!

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued...
> 
> Before you say anything, yes, "do or speak" is just the 1500's less modern version of "truth or dare". And yes, my implication is that Miguel comes up with a ridiculously early version of truth or dare while in a hot spring with his best bro.
> 
> Feel free to drop a comment or kudos if you liked this, your feedback makes my day! Thanks for reading! x


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